“Mom, is he gonna be like Dad?” I ask as we walk downstairs to the guest room. She gasps, “No. No, baby, Dean is just going through a hard time, with Uncle Lionel passing and all, he is just confused… No, baby… No.” I already knew the answer,“she lies to keep me safe” I tell myself. I hug her tight.
“I love you, baby boy, and get some rest.” She whispers against my little nine-year-old head. I push away from her and lift her hair away from the scars.
“I love you to momma… don’t worry when I get bigger I will protect you… I swear.” An oath I was not able to keep. She smiles and a tear streaks down the puffy brand of her cheeks making them sparkle, only something I could see.
It seemed like hours later I was woken by a scream.
“Momma!”
My feet hit the cold linoleum and I am carried out of the room and into the den where Mom stands face to face with Dean.
“Sweetie don’t do this, don’t let the darkness take over, it will use you, kill you, please sweetie, drop the knife, let us talk about this.” She whimpers. Dean’s eyes wonder to me, only their not his, dark grey with hate.